


Be Still My Wayward Heart

by Captains_Orders



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captains_Orders/pseuds/Captains_Orders
Summary: Aymeric could remember nigh every moment he had spent with Estinien, from the day they met and every time they parted since. Though some partings are easier than others, Aymeric has long come to accept his dearest friend and deepest love is but a wandering soul, and he also knows the best way to still a wayward heart is by giving it somewhere to come home to.A collection of moments throughout Aymeric and Estinien’s relationship.Ratings T-E





	1. In The Vault Mine Heart Didst Break

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself I wouldn't start another fic until at least one of my wips was complete but after beating Heavensward and most of the patches these two just wouldn't let me rest. And its more a collection of one-shots than a fic so I don't feel too bad.  
> Aymeric and Estinien just have such a good dynamic I couldn't resist. Final Fantasy always gets me with this shit.  
> This particular chapter is rated T and contains Angst and Hurt/Comfort  
> I thought Aymeric sounded on the verge of tears at the end of The Vault quest and honestly so was I.  
> Unbetad

Aymeric was glad that the chirurgeons had set him up in a private room to recuperate, it left him ample to time to dwell upon recent events. There had been a moment, before he had been whisked away, that he had seen the Warrior of Light be ushered away in tears, and Aymeric’s heart had ached even more at the sight. Still he could not come to terms with how everything had fallen apart. The Archbishop, his own father, had chosen power over truth, his knights had locked him away with a cruel beating and crueler words, and a dear friend had lost his life. Aymeric was still trying to process with the truth of it all. Suddenly the door creaked open on old hinges, yet Aymeric did not spare it a glance. 

“Please leave me. I have no interest in anything but solitude at the moment.”

“Lucia said you refused to eat. I did not think you would refuse my company as well.”

“Estinien!” He could scarcely mask his surprise, Estinien’s presence had been brief and formal as of late, there had been little time for anything else. Aymeric had the feeling that he was lost in thought, as he oft distanced himself with quiet reflection when met with something that made him think. Now however there was a softness to him, a plain tunic in place of armor, his long white hair down about his shoulders, and despite everything Aymeric felt his breath catch at the sight of him. 

“You would do well to heed the advice of the chirurgeons, you need your strength.”

“Regardless of what I need I have found my appetite lacking, and I will be fine without. Thank you for your concern, Estinien.” The tray in Estinien’s hands met the bedside table with an audible clang, the small steaming cup of tea rocking dangerously before settling. Aymeric turned his head away, but not before he caught sight of the man’s crossed arms and scowling face. 

“Do you truly wish to wither away in this room while our people look for guidance, Lord Commander?”

“Am I truly fit to guide them?” Aymeric whispered, the seeds of doubt sown in the Vault heavy on his mind. He held no power in those halls, no power over his own father, even as he had pleaded with a voice cracked with pain and desperation. 

“By the Fury do not tell me you doubt yourself now.”

“How can I not? I thought my words enough to sway my father from a thousand years of lies and tradition. If it were not for my haste and foolish idealism then Lord Haurchefant…” and suddenly the grief he’d held behind his mask of leadership poured forth with a broken sob. He covered his mouth at once, as if he could physically keep the sound at bay, but the dam had been broken and the tears came despite his attempt to stop them. Every shake and shudder lanced pain through the cracks and bruises his brief imprisonment had left him with, but there was no stopping them now. Estinien was at his side in an instant an arm slowly slipping around him while the other hand pet his hair with gentle even strokes.

“I will not tell you to cease your tears nor stay your grief, but I will not stand to hear you blame yourself, Aymeric.” Estinien’s voice had gone soft in the way it only ever did for him, and another cry bubbled out of him. How could it be anyone else’s burden to bare? He had insisted on going to his father the moment the truth had been revealed to him. Had he the sense to wait and devise some sort of plan then maybe...

“It is my fault! Had I not been so naive as to think my father susceptible to such an enormous change then-” 

“No!” The arm around him became far less comforting as Estinien dug his fingers into his uninjured arm before his touch disappeared completely. Strong hands took him by the shoulders and Aymeric felt compelled to look into Estinien’s eyes, lit by a new raging fire. “You are not to blame for this! Do you hear me, Aymeric? You are not to blame! Thordan and the Heavens’ Ward are to blame! Ser Zephirin is to blame! You are not!”

“Estinien,” he said as all other words failed him, countless feelings tangled with the name, a gratitude Aymeric could hardly express in words. The fire that had burned in Estinien’s blue eyes fizzled out and was replaced with a look of utter adoration. Rough hands trailed up his shoulders to rest upon his cheeks and calloused thumbs stretched out to wipe the tears from his face. 

“By mine lance will I bring justice upon them, Aymeric, but know that tis a justice meant only for them. Tell me you understand.” Aymeric closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Estinien’s palm, nodding slightly before opening his eyes once more, the flow of tears slowed to a stop.

“I cannot lie to you and say I feel I am without some blame, but in time I will come to bear it. For now my father and the Heavensward must be brought to justice, for the people of Ishgard, and for Lord Haurchefant.”

“Aye, tis as I said, by mine lance it will be done. Unless the Warrior of Light beats me to it.” 

“I dare say you have staunch competition then.” Estinien huffed, but twas a good natured one at least.

“To see your burdens eased I care not who wins.” Estinien leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss upon the crown of his head before sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. “Now can I convince you to eat, Lord Commander? I slipped extra birch syrup into the tea, though I am afraid it has long grown cold.” Despite the pain still in his heart, Aymeric smiled, almost laughed at the simple gesture that meant so much. After all these years he could still be swept off his proverbial feet by this man for the smallest thing. 

“How could I now deny such a treat, though I fear myself too weak in this state to lift the cup.”

“Enough strength to play coy I see. But who am I to deny an injured man his tea.” With a knowing look Estinien leaned forward to lift the porcelain cup from the tray and to Aymeric’s lips, and Aymeric dutifully but slowly sipped the sweet drink though it had in fact gone cold. 

He would carry the pain the Vault had brought him for the rest of his days, but so too would Estinien stand by him to pull him from his despair. Aymeric thought that to be enough.


	2. Twas Then Mine Heart First Beat for Thine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really liked the part of Heavensward where Aymeric described him and Estinien's friendship and thought it would be fun to put my own spin on that infamous battle only they survived.   
> I'm rather slow at writing for XIV but I love it too much not to do more, especially with these two.  
> Unbetad

The Dragon’s fury was unlike anything Aymeric had ever seen, a power and ferocity not possibly matched by man. His companions, knights of honor and potential, lay dead and wasted upon the ground, their blood soaking into the dirt, all save Estinien. Still the lancer fought with a speed and ferocity Aymeric found himself in awe of, so swift were his strikes they were little more than a blur, but even he was not impervious to the dragon’s brute strength. Aymeric watched as the beast turned and snapped its tail through the air like a whip and sent Estinien crashing to the ground. Aymeric moved to help him, and barely blocked the tail as it came lashing at him next, glancing off his sword as the dragon turned to face them once more. 

“Estinien!” The man groaned and struggled to his hands and knees, head bowed. The blow had knocked his helm clean off, and the stark white of his hair was now streaked with dirt. 

“I yet live,” he spat, blood seeping from his mouth and staining his teeth red. 

Aymeric’s attention was torn between his dazed comrade and the bloodthirsty dragon, and it was pure chance that he saw the beast rear back, smoke curling from it's lips. Unthinking his body moved, and he rushed to Estinien’s side, pulling him up and away, though not quick enough to fully escape the fire. Flames licked at his shoulder, singeing the cloth away and heating his chainmail enough that he could feel it burn his skin. The ground provided a blissful reprieve, and despite the pain he rolled once to douse any lingering embers. For a moment the only thing he could focus on was the smell of his own flesh cooking beneath his armor, and nausea nearly over took him before he fought it down. Instinctively he grabbed his left shoulder and regretted it a moment later as the pain intensifies, the heat felt through his gauntlets. 

“You damn fool,” Estinien growled, as he pushed himself up, eyes fierce though not truly wrathful. 

Aymeric had not the strength to defend himself, for he feared if he unclenched his teeth and opened his mouth all that would escape would be a pained cry. Estinien waited not for a reply regardless, already he was on his feet, leaning heavily on his lance but still determined, and Aymeric could not stop himself from thinking that he looked handsome even smeared with ash and dirt and blood. Like some storybook knight determined to save the day, long hair and gleaming armor all. There was no time to linger on a fools yearnful thoughts however, as Estinien lunged for the beast before it could strike again. Aymeric too knew this was not yet finished, and he pushed himself to shaky feet and retrieved his sword. The pain in his shoulder was hard to bear, and there was no chance for his right arm to wield his blade… his left would needs serve. The weight was unfamiliar to his arm, heavy and unsure, but he would not let Estinien finish this fight alone. 

As if sensing his decision the dragon roared it's fury once more and lunged. He threw himself out of the way as the jaws came forward, all teeth and rancid breath, and he got to his feet much slower this time even as their foe prepared to strike again, and then Estinien jumped. Estinien jumped high as any dragoon could ever manage, and brought his lance down with deadly precision at the base of the dragon’s neck. It recoiled, pulling it's snapping jaws away from Aymeric in an attempt to throw Estinien off as he dug his lance deeper still. There was little time to think, so Aymeric acted. Rushing forward, pushing through pain and peril, Aymeric threw himself at the writhing dragon as well before it could buck Estinien or flee. With the strength he had left he thrust his sword up beneath it's chin as it made to snap at him again. 

Stillness lasted but a moment, and then the wyrm writhed in it's death throes, yanking the sword from Aymeric’s grip and tossing him aside. This time when he hit the ground he made no attempt to rise again as something in him crunched and cracked, exhaustion and pain making him content to simply lay down on the cool earth while the dragon screeched and died somewhere behind him. From here he could see out over Coerthas and the rolling green hills, peaceful outside of the battle they had just fought, the sky brilliantly blue and clear. 

“Aymeric!” Estinien’s footsteps grew closer until a hand grasped his left arm and roughly hauled him up. “'Twould not serve us to die here, Aymeric. On your feet.” He was little help to Estinien as the man pulled him too his feet. His legs were remarkably in one piece, and though he stumbled, Estinien caught him around the waist and pulled his left arm around his shoulder. When he tried to reach for his sword with his burning right arm is when he realized it was broken, the sharp stabbing pain lancing through him suddenly. “Leave it, tis only a blade.” 

“I suppose,” he said and stared after it still even as Estinien began to drag them forward. No small feat for a man just as injured as himself. 

“Twas a damn fool thing you did back there,” Estinien began. “A damn fool thing, but full glad am I that you did it.” It was perhaps the first conversation he had willingly started between them, an insult still, but Aymeric could not help being pleased to hear him speak at all.

“Any man looking to lead must be willing to make sacrifices.”

“What leader risks his life for one man?” Despite the fact that they were both panting and exhausted as they slugged their way through the grass, Aymeric found the conversation most stimulating, and perhaps the only thing that kept him from falling to the ground never to rise again. So he continued. 

“I had little chance of defeating the beast alone, but you… never have I seen a man fight with such drive. If anyone could best a dragon in single combat 'twould be you, friend.” Estinien huffed a laugh, weak and humorless, but trudged on, still carrying most of their weight. 

“Friends are we?”

“You saved my life and I saved yours, I would say that makes us something.” Estinien chuckled, though it was a painful wet sound.

“You damn fool.” Estinien shifted his grip, forcing Aymeric to take more of his own weight for a moment. “You damn crazy noble fool.” Aymeric laughed through the pain, stumbling and almost taking them both down. 

“Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?”

“Perhaps both. If you truly aim to be Lord Commander of the Temple Knights as they say, know that I will follow you. I yet live because of your actions, and I will not soon forget it.”

“There is no need to repay a debt that does not exist, you saved my life and I saved yours.”

“And that makes us friends,” Estinien repeated. Aymeric slowed nearly to a stop and looked up at him, a small smile on his lips that Aymeric would almost describe as teasing. Then Estinien met his gaze, eyes serious. “You are a good man, Aymeric, I misjudged you at first I admit. I thought you another pompous lordling with too high aspirations, but you are not.” He turned his eyes forward once more as they crested the hill, the keep within view, and the setting sun casting a golden glow about him that was near ethereal in its beauty. “If there is one thing Ser Alberic has taught me ‘tis that good men are hard to find, and harder still good men in power. I plan to be the next Azure Dragoon, but I will not follow the creed of some petty old fool.”

“But you would follow me?”

“Aye. Sometimes men needs follow a good crazy fool.”

“I will work tirelessly to be such a man then.” 

Before either of them could say more a horn sounded from the keep as they were spotted, and it was only a few moments more before the gate rose up slowly and half a dozen men came rushing through. Aymeric would hardly remember what happened from the arrival of the knights and his admittance into the medical ward, but Estinien’s words would stay with him through his recovery and beyond. As they were nursed back to health on beds side by side, passing their days with idle conversation, Aymeric found he not only wanted to be a man worth following, but a man worthy of Estinien’s trust and friendship. Though unbeknownst to him, he already was.


End file.
